


My Love For You Was Logic Drowned

by blue_sweater



Series: Giveaway Fics [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Gift Fic, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_sweater/pseuds/blue_sweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Learning how to love your soulmate shouldn't be such a long process, but they've both got history. Learning how to trust someone after you've lost so much is no small thing.</p><p>April fic giveaway: Nat/Steve Soulmates AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love For You Was Logic Drowned

**Author's Note:**

> HEY KIDS. So this is the first monthly giveaway!  
> Thanks to the lovely people who submitted, if your fic request didn't win please submit again! I am also keeping them all on record because there are some fantastic ideas there and I loved them all!
> 
> If you'd like to enter the contest for May, go to [THIS LINK](http://scarlet-wandas.tumblr.com/monthly-giveaway) to read the rules and submit your fic request. you might just get one written for you!
> 
> If you were the anon who submitted this request, congratulations :) and thanks for entering the contest and giving me such a great fic idea. I watched Winter Soldier again to get in the groove and I enjoyed myself thoroughly! I Hope you like it. 
> 
> The title and lyrics are taken from Volumes' song "Up All Night" which is equal parts adorable and cry-able.

_You got me up all night, I wake up in another room_

_You wake up, you’re never next to me_

_And I’m coming home tonight but this house wasn’t built for two_

_If I let you have the rest of me, would you tell me the truth?_

* * *

 

Coming home to an empty bed is difficult. Coming home and not knowing where she’s gone to, not knowing when she’ll be back. It’s not that he needs to protect her, god knows she can look after herself, but he always feels better when she’s around. He sleeps better when he’s breathing her in, his heart is slow and steady when it’s lined up with hers.

It’s like an itch he can’t scratch when she’s not there. 

He wonders if she feels the same. 

* * *

 

She was never supposed to find a soulmate. She was sterilised. They took organs out of her body, and put awful things into her mind. Turned her into something not quite human.

She was prepared to be alone for the rest of her life, told that she would be, that her training had made her better than that, that she’d never have a weakness like all the others do. 

Her weakness came in the form of a soldier, a man who wasn’t weak at all. A tall and powerful person who was better than human, who had no childish notions about soulmates and destiny, who was calloused from what he had lost, who was a weapon and a tool just like her. 

And maybe that’s why they were fated to be together. Neither of them needed the other, not in the romantic way that everyone thought soulmates were for. They don’t need each other at all. They don’t need anything. They could both survive on their own, they had both survived on their own, they couldn’t afford to be in love. Love is exposing, love is painful, love is difficult. 

Naturally, they fell in love.

* * *

 

It took a while for them to make it work. They had both become so comfortable with being alone that when they were suddenly made soulmates, out of the blue, they were both _un_ comfortable.

Steve didn’t know how to kiss a girl – a woman – he was supposed to be bonded with. He didn’t know how to hold her. He didn’t know her at all, and she didn’t seem all that interested in getting to know him.

Well, she knew him in the biblical sense pretty quickly. But with the talking, she wasn’t quite as – open.

* * *

 

The first time they fucked, Natasha thought she was having a religious experience. She thought she was dreaming. She had no idea that she had the capacity for such overwhelming emotion.

She’d slept with plenty of people. Getting into someone’s bed to steal information or kill them in their sleep was a finely-tuned skill, something she had been trained for before she’d even had her first period. And she had slept with a lot of peers and strangers in a desperate attempt to claw at what was left of her humanity, to search for something inside her that she was missing.

She thought it was a skill – if she got good enough at it, if she practiced enough, if she did it enough times, she’d eventually know what it was all about, and she’d be able to find that feeling everyone else was searching for. She was left feeling empty each and every time, and didn’t think of sex as anything other than a function like eating or sleeping until she met Steve. 

When he kissed her she felt the breath leave her body, like he’d punched her in the gut. When his hands travelled over her skin she felt like he was leaving a trail of embers down her body. She was so sensitive the first time she came before he’d even properly touched her, he was only rubbing at her through her clothes and she’d trembled in his arms like a girl. 

The only consolation was that he did the same, and had already finished in his trousers before they had even started. It was a good thing he had such a quick recovery time, though. He came again when he slid home inside her, and Natasha had never felt more vulnerable and alive at the same time. She’d never felt more human. She’d never felt more awake and at the same time so damn incoherent.

She realised then that she had never had an orgasm before, and all the other times were just mere ripples in what could have been an enormous wave of pleasure and heat and mindless intensity. Steve left her body covered in marks from his mouth and his hands and Natasha had never felt more beautiful, had never known her body could be such a perfect canvas for someone else. 

* * *

 

It was tricky being her soulmate and her Captain. Not that she took orders from either one, but it would have been nice if she at least pretended to do as she was told.

She worked well in crisis situations, she always knew exactly what to do and didn’t second-guess anything. She was quick, she was careful, she was deadly.

But on smaller (read: non-apocalyptic) missions, she was flippant. Too many times he had given her orders that she completely disregarded. He didn’t know if she didn’t respect him, didn’t know how to work in a team, or just didn’t care.

Back at headquarters, she invited him to hers that night. They didn’t live together just yet.

In the locker room, she smirked at him and said, “Wanna come over tonight? I think we can afford to take a break.”

Steve didn’t look at her. “I don’t think so.”

Natasha frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Steve glanced her way. “We’ll talk about it later.”

She caught his arm as he went to go past her. “Talk about it now,” she said.

Steve took a moment just in case she changed her mind, but she was determined. So he talked.

“I can’t work with you out there if you don’t do what I tell you,” he said, bluntly.

Natasha blinked. “That’s what this is about?”

Steve tried to stay calm but his jaw was clenched. “If you compromise the mission, you’re putting the whole team in danger.”

At that, she pulled a face. “Come on, Steve, they can take care of themselves –”

“Some of the best people I know were killed because others didn’t do enough to help,” Steve snapped. He felt a wrench in his gut as he saw Bucky’s scared face, arm reaching out to him. “If you can’t stick to the plan, you won’t be on the team.”

“You don’t have the authority to demote me,” she replied sharply, no longer an amused tone in her voice, a frown tugging at her brow.

“Yeah? Try me,” he said, sharply.

He was almost out the door when she blurted out, “But – but you’re my soulmate. We’re supposed to be together.”

Steve hesitated. The tightness in his shoulders eased slightly and the fierce anger in his eyes had faded as he turned back for a moment. “I like you, Natasha,” he said, “And yeah, we’re going to be together for a while, and I’m going to learn to love you the way a soulmate should. But if you won’t trust me, I won’t trust you either.”

He tried to ignore the hurt look on her face as he left.

* * *

 

Natasha tried, she really did. But lying, deception and murder was literally all she had been trained to do. She had been nurtured to be mistrustful, to follow her own instincts above anyone else’s. That’s why she left Russia in the first place. After all that training not to trust anyone, she realised that it included the KGB.

She stayed by herself that night and ran their conversation over and over in her mind. She disobeyed because she saw a better way. She did it because she knew better.

No, that wasn’t it. She’d disobeyed because she saw a better way for _her_. She hadn’t been thinking of the team. Rogers was always thinking of the team.

She sent him a text.

 _You’re right. I’ll try to do better next time. I’m sorry_.

He took a while to respond but when he did it was just as short and sharp.

_Thank you. I appreciate that._

A minute later, another message.

 _Come over tomorrow night, I’ll make you dinner_.

Nat smiled.

* * *

 

Their marks were on the inside of their wrists - or at least, Steve’s was. Natasha’s had been burned off and replaced with a skin graft at the age of seven. But if he looked closely, he could almost read his name in the right light - the skin was paler there, pearlescent. 

Her name was written in Russian. Steve’s mark had been faint when he was younger, and his doctor had told him it was probably because his soulmate had died as a child. That’s what happened when someone wasn’t alive. Their mark fades. 

He had no idea that she simply wasn’t alive yet.

He accepted that he wasn’t designed for anyone and fell into the arms of his best friend whenever he needed company, and pretended that he wasn’t heartbroken when Bucky’s name never appeared instead.

_I can get by on my own_

_Thing is, you don’t have to.  
_

Maybe it was better that it didn’t. Steve learned quickly enough that love was lost faster than it was found. 

But he waited for her. So maybe it was okay. 

* * *

 

“It doesn’t make sense to me.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “What doesn’t?”

“You and Cap,” said Tony. “The Spider and the Popsicle. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get you and Pepper, either.”

“Hey, me and Pepper are _destined_. We’re balanced. You two are weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Weird like I have never seen you kiss in public and you don’t hold hands or do any of the stuff normal in-love soulbound people do.”

Natasha smirked. “Maybe we don’t need to prove it to anybody but ourselves.”

Tony pulled a face. “Are you suggesting I have something to prove?’

“You’re forever compensating for something or other, Tony,” said Steve, as he walked through the room. He smiled at Nat as he went by, and when he walked away she remembered why she loved those tight jeans of his so much. 

* * *

 

Steve had never known that handing yourself over to someone else could be so liberating. He didn’t know that he could be free like this, with his soul chained to hers. He thought freedom was being individual, was being strong in your loneliness.

But freedom was actually giving yourself over to someone and not being afraid that they would ever let you go. No matter how many times they were apart, he knew she would always come back to him, and he would always come back to her, and they would pick up where they left off. 

* * *

 

She liked the idea that they were on some sort of invisible string, that no matter how far they went they would always find their way back to each other. It was a silly idea, but she liked it all the same. 

* * *

 

Sometimes they moved slow, so slow it felt like the world stopped spinning and there was nothing but their bodies, their breaths, their fingers laced together as they moved in tandem. Other times it was desperate and messy and they knew the world was right outside their door and they didn’t care. They were loud and fierce, ignorant and selfish. The world could wait.

Tonight was more like the latter. 

Nat walked through the door and Steve walked out from the bedroom a second later. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he said, coming closer. He reaches down to give her what should be a very simple, sweet kiss, but within seconds she's sighing, lips parted to let his tongue touch hers, and his hands balled up in her jacket as she raked her fingernails down his bare chest and smiling into the kiss as he groans desperately. 

He backed her up against the wall to press his body hard against hers. A moment later, she’s lifted her legs up to wrap around his waist, and he grasped a hold of her hips and lifts her all the way up, and then he’s holding her against the wall with his narrow waist, pressed hard against her, hands in her hair, on her waist, grasping at her body as she bit at his lip and tugged hard. 

Steve let out a ragged breath as he lowered his mouth to her neck, and he murmured against her skin, “God, I missed you.”

She wasn’t gone any longer than usual, and she wondered what happened in the last few days that made him feel like he needed her to come home. She wondered if he got that same uneasy feeling when they hadn’t spoken for a few days. She wondered what she would do if she came home and he wasn’t here, or something had happened. Wondered what he would do if something happened to her.  

But she doesn’t say any of that. “I missed you too,” is all she said, and then Steve’s arms went around her, holding her as he backed away from the wall and tries to walk toward their bedroom door. 

They don’t make it that far, because Nat was biting and licking at his ear and Steve stumbled, a hand going out to catch himself on the hallway console but then they’re headed for the floor and there ain’t nothing either of them can do about it. Nat laughed as Steve fell over her, but her smiles soon turned back to moans as his hands went up under her shirt and he pressed hard between her legs.

They don’t waste much time, and in what must be record time their jeans were torn off and Steve was sliding inside of her. She was wet but not prepped, and he’s big and the stretch is just the other side of painful, but when she cried out it’s in pleasure, not pain.

She loves the feel of him. She loves that he can make her feel this way. She loves that noise he always makes when he first presses inside, that raw, rumbling groan that comes from deep in his throat and she reached up blindly, grasped handfuls of his straw blonde hair and pulled him to her mouth so she can taste him.

He started to move, hardly thrusting, little more than rolling his hips into her, but Nat groaned and swore in Russian before she hissed, “If you’re gonna take me on the floor like a goddamn animal, Rogers, then fuck me properly.”

The next smile he gave her was far more predatory, and Natasha let out a sharp moan as his next thrust was hard and deep. Steve lifted himself up, placing one hand over her shoulder and the other a tight grip on her waist, and he began to fuck her ruthlessly.

Nat whined, back arching up to him. This was _exactly_ what she needed. She gripped onto his arms – his big arms that could crush her like a bug – and let him hold her, let him drive into her over and over and over until she was hoarse from crying out his name, orgasm after orgasm torn from her.

After he had spilled inside of her, flooding her with warmth, he slumped over her, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin.

Natasha took a moment to get her breath back before she said, “You’re heavy.”

Steve laughed, lifted his face up just far enough to kiss her with lazy, slow movements. They took their sweet time getting off the floor and spent the night lazing around, ordered takeout and watching terrible films together. Natasha found her usual spot with her small body curled up, back pressed to Steve’s side, his big arm over her shoulders, fingers drawing circles into her skin.

* * *

 

He returned after his next mission to find her at home, waiting for him. She glanced up as he walked in, gave a half-smile and said, “Hey,” before turning her eyes back to the television. 

Steve watched her for a moment. He didn’t realise how much he had missed her until she was there again. He didn’t notice the hole she left in his heart until she was back. He didn’t notice how much he was hurting until she was there to numb his pain. 

He loved her. He had loved her for a long time.

But he didn’t have to say anything. She knew. She had to know.

He put his things down, went to sit beside her, wrapped his arm around her and kissed her once before asking what they were watching. 

* * *

 

_And in another life would it be different?_

_Would we do it all again?_


End file.
